


Failure to Communicate

by Athene



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athene/pseuds/Athene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following his survival, Li Ying and Erston have a talk about friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failure to Communicate

**Author's Note:**

> Unlike most (all?) of my past fics, this short fic explores Gaius and Wingul's relationship as depicted in Tales of Xillia 2. There is no assumed verbal friendship between the two, as Gaius spends his story arc questioning his relationship with the Chimeriad. To support this idea, I use the localized names here.
> 
> There isn't a lot of backstory to why Wingul survives here; all that's necessary to understand the fic is he reappears after Xillia 2.

The silence between them was unlike anything Gaius remembered of their long history together. As he sat at the bedside, frowning at Wingul's bandaged arm and sunburn mottled skin, he wondered what could have brought such a pall over them.

Perhaps the year apart was to blame. Or perhaps it was his own mindset, now addled by questions of friendship and regret. Or perhaps it was that distance in Wingul's gaze that drove him from staring too long.

"Li Ying."

Wingul regarded him with a detached expression, so very different from the desperation and warmth Gaius had seen in other fractured dimensions. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse from months of little use. "You're using that name." Brows knit together in thought, but no question came.

"It has meaning." Everything was deliberate--just as he had used that name in his first fractured dimension to break that Wingul's battle-ready focus, he now used in an attempt to bridge the gap between them.

Slowly but surely, Wingul's frown adopted some of that wryness that he still remembered. It was a relief to see, though Gaius' expression was as impregnable as ever. "Erston." The name was muttered, vaguely wondrous. "What changed?"

Long ago, Gaius reached out to the boy who would one day be Wingul. Saved his life and the remainder of the Long Dau's forces. When did he stop reaching out, instead relying on the other to grab hold of him?

He knew _why._ The king had to keep his vision forward, while those entrusted with his life protected his back. That often wordless acceptance defined his relationship with the Chimeriad. But the _when_ was lost to the shared years he took for granted, in between the jostling reminders in secret code and a wild idea to promote his likeness in food.

Gaius didn't realize his vision was downcast until a bandaged hand rested on his own. Perhaps the surprise in Wingul's eyes was too much for him. But his expression was shifting again, from wonder to seriousness. "What changed?" he asked again, voice a little steadier.

Many things. Where would he even begin? The very idea of reviewing a whole year with someone with whom he once shared a daily routine was suddenly daunting. So he simply looked up and stared at Wingul, gloved fingers loosely curling around injured ones.

"I realized my past gratitude did not account for some important things." Even if the words still rang true, he knew his ignorance left a certain bitterness to his memories. "Forgive me for not being a better friend, Li Ying."

"A king doesn't beg for forgiveness." That breathy rasp was more apparent when he strung together a longer sentence. But there was a thoughtful tilt to Wingul's head as he seemed to consider the entirety of their conversation. "I never asked anything from Erston other than to be present. As far as I am concerned, there's nothing to forgive."

The moment of silence between them was terrible, even as their hands remained carefully clasped.

Wingul cut it mercifully short with a cough. "I didn't join you hoping that we would become friends. The nation always came first." For a second, his grip became unbearably tense before loosening. "But the prospect of being left behind made me regret not telling you. Over and over again." The confession was akin to the breakdown Gaius had seen in that first fractured dimension, and he waited for Wingul to collect himself and continue. “You are my best friend and my king. And an idiot who doesn’t know he was both before he was officially either.”

“That long ago.” Gaius bowed his head as the realization settled, feeling it was better to remain quiet than say another apology. “How could you stand it? Did you not resent me for being oblivious?”

“I didn’t want to distract you—not when you were so dedicated to this goal that you would place family at the back of your mind. How much worse would it be, feeling swayed by my arguments not by their merit, but by our relationship?” Wingul had to stop to cough and lick cracked lips.

“So we are both fools.” Somehow, that didn’t make Gaius feel better.

But Wingul laughed, and that certainly did.


End file.
